Syraria's Crossing
by CNJ
Summary: Mary Anne's great-great grandmother Syraria Wegenstein crosses the Atlantic in 1901 & goes through Ellis Island to start a new life in the States.
1. 1

This story is slightly different from my others on the BSC...it's sort of about Mary Anne, but it's about her maternal great-great grandmother, who emigrated from Germany to escape poverty and political unrest. I've always enjoyed tracing ancestors and I've been to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty (Liberty is sooo enchanting!), so it stands to reason that in my stories, most of the BSC members' ancestors emigrated through Ellis Island at the turn of the twentieth century. The usual disclaimers on the BSC characters, Verna Baker, and on Mona; they're not my characters, but Mary Anne's German immigrant ancestors are my creation and have been copyrighted. It's the BSC's senior year and Mary Anne's family goes to see her Grandma Baker for the winter break. And Verna shows Mary Anne a treasure that she'll pass on to her granddaughter one day...  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
I'm so glad Iowa has snow for the holidays. And it's wonderful seeing my grandma Verna again! Once we get settled in to stay with her for the winter holidays, my stepsister, Dawn and stepbrother, Jeff go out to do some last minute shopping, my stepmom and my dad go for a walk and in the house it's just Grandma and me. As I meander into the kitchen, Grandma asks, "Care for some tea, darling?"  
  
"Sure," I nod and get out a cup. Grandma pours me and herself some and we sit at the kitchen table.  
  
"Hard to believe you're a senior in high school already," Grandma sips her tea and gazes at me, her dark eyes a bit moist.  
  
"Me too." I think of my friends in the BSC and the colleges we've applied to this past fall. My last holiday season as a kid. Next time this year, I'll be eighteen and an adult.  
  
"Have you heard from any of the colleges yet?" Grandma asks.  
  
"Not yet," I shake my head. "I don't think we'll hear from them until March or so." I've applied to Arizona U., New York U., Staten U., and Hartford U. I'm leaning in the direction of the New York colleges, since I want to live in New York City as an adult, but I'm also thinking a bit of Arizona. Dawn says she will probably go there next year, since she's applied to Tucson U. and Phoenix U. as well as two colleges in New Mexico and one in California where her dad and stepmom live.  
  
"You're very fortunate to be living nowadays," Grandma tells me as she finishes her tea. "You have many more opportunities in life than I did or your ancestors did."  
  
"Yeah..." I think of how in my great-grandmother's era, women couldn't even vote. "Did I tell you I looked up Syraria Wegenstein at Ellis Island in the computer? And her name is on that wall."  
  
"I think you mentioned that," Verna told me. "She was a very brave woman. Came over in 1901 all the way from Germany so we could have better, safer lives. We've also inherited our love of sewing from her...me, your late mother, and you." Her eyes are faraway for a minute as she gazes out at the snow and the bright winter sky. Then she brightens and says, "I have the thing I wanted to show you, Mary Anne. It's up in the attic." I've finished my tea by then, so we put our cups in the sink and I follow her upstairs. Up in the dusty attic among all the old furniture and boxes is on special box and in it is a diary.  
  
"It was your great-great grandmother's" Verna whispered, handing it to me. "Look through it, read it however much you like...this is the gift that will someday be yours when I'm gone. You're welcome to look through the box. Many of her old things are there." She strokes my back a minute before leaving. I sit all the way down and a small shiver runs through me as I finger the old, old notebook that resembles a school notebook of long ago. It's warped some and as I open it, the pages are yellowed and the edges crumble a little in my hands. I grope around until I find my glasses and put them on and start reading...  
  
  
July 9, 1901:  
  
Hard to believe it is the start of the twentieth century. I decided to try my hand at Englisch in this new journal, since we may be going to Amerika in a few time. I'm so glad to have you, my journal, to get my thoughts in, since my verbal speech is defective in both Englisch and Deutch. I hope you will bear with me if I make many mistakes in my Englisch; I have gotten better at it since my older brother, Erik emigrated to Amerika five years ago. Here in Germany still is my mother, Helga, my younger sister, Anna and me, Syraria. Our surname is Wegenstein. We might leave Germany because there is trouble here...riots everywhere and Mama's afraid of what the thugs will do next. They have attacked and destroyed a in a number of shtetls in this country and in Russia, Lithuania, and Poland it is even worse. Russia's czar Nicholas was assassinated earlier this year and there have been riots all over the country since and the Jewish people are getting the brunt of it. Mama says that thousands and thousands of people are fleeing from Eastern Europe and we may have to be next. Things have been quiet here for the past month, but we are not counting on it to stay that way.  
  
  
"Wow..." I whisper, imagining how frightening it must have been to live in Germany even in the early 1900's. I swallow, turn a page and read on...  
  
  
Maybe now is a gut time to tell you a little of myself and my family, as when I get old and die years from now, I may pass this journal on to my daughter and granddaughter and great-granddaughter and great-great and beyond...I'm sixteen and I'm Syraria Wegenstein. I have an older brother, Erik, who moved to America and is twenty-three. He wrote recently to tell us that he has a girlfriend, Joanna, also German and they are sharing a flat in a huge city called New York. We, his family, are the only ones who know that they are not married, but are living as husband and wife. It is still hard to make a living, but both Erik and Joanna hope to be able to soon make more money. They are working in factories and making enough to live in the flat, but not enough for extras. They still remain hopeful, though, since they say that Amerika is the land of opportunity. My father, Daniel, died when I was seven. From what Mama tells me, a riot broke out in the city where he worked as a shoe polisher and he died in that riot. I still shiver as I remember how Anna and I huddled under the covers that cold January night when we got the news, listening to Mama weep in her room. Anna and I had cried on and off. Anna is thirteen. Mama works as a bottle-washer in a furniture store downtown. She brings in enough to feed us, which is remarkable, considering how hard they make it for women to earn a decent living in this shtetl. Since Papa died, Mama has done a heroic job of keeping us fed, warm in the winter, and fully clothed as well as educated. About our place...we live here in the shtetl of Vosterbohn fifty-five miles north of Berlin, the capital and another fifty miles from the Polish border. It's a small, cozy house we live in and most of us here in the shtetl know each other. We're considered Jewish for our religion, although we do not really observe many of the rituals, not to the extent that our ancestors a hundred years ago did or some of our Orthodox neighbors do today. On Fridays, we sometimes have a special dinner and we observe Hanukkah and Passover, but that's about all; we don't go to Synagogue or anything else. Once I overheard a couple up the street saying we were "heeven" and I asked Mama what it meant. She told me the word was "heethen" and that it was a popular label on people who don't keep strictly to religious laws and to pay them no mind. In fact, it's Friday today and Mama's calling me to help her with dinner, so I'll be back later.  
  
  
  
I glance out the attic window and seeing that it is growing dark, I fly back to the present. Putting the diary slowly down, I pat it softly as if the thank my great-great grandma for sharing her life with me and go down to see if Grandma needs any help with dinner. By then the rest of my family is back. As we eat, Grandma mentions that Hanukkah starts tomorrow at sundown. We'll be doing our gift exchange then and having a special dinner.  
  
  
Hang on for more! 


	2. 2

MARY ANNE:  
  
It's after dinner and I have a few hours before it gets late, so I settle in the living room in front of the fireplace in Grandma's living room with a plate of holiday cookies and a cup of tea. Dawn and Jeff are upstairs and Grandma and my parents have gone out for a walk, so I have the living room to myself. I open my great-great grandmother's journal to the page I left off...  
  
  
Jul y 23, 1901:  
  
They're happening again, I hear...the riots. A naibor of ours, their daughter, son-in-law and grandchilds are in danger in their town, so they had to pack up and leave. They are headed to our town. I told them I hope that they make it safely. So does Mama. All of us are worried about what if they come here to Vosterbohn.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Our naibor...her grandchild are here; there's three of them, but her daughter and son-in-law did not come back. We fear it is bad news since the oldest grandchild, Silke, says they were separated by flying bullets and rioting mobs and that was the last they'd seen of their parents. She says she saw almost all of the houses and stores there on fire. Poor souls; I hope they're taken care of. Mama is getting scared, even though she tries to comfort us. Outside, she seems calm, but often at night, I get up and see her standing by the window, a worried look on her face, her brows tilted near her nose, worried lines on her forehead. If the moon's shining through the window, Mama's fear is even more vivid. Anna and I are scared too, but try to make a usual life...we go to school, help Mama with the chores and have our dinner together at night.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The bakery had cookies for the first in a long time. Anna and I walked down there as of a Friday and saw them. Often, there isn't any since many areas of Deuschland is very poor and ingridients for cookies are very hard to get. Often, it has to be shipped in from England or Denmarck. So, since Anna and I had a few pfennings, we bought some, ate some and brought the rest home to Mama. I'd forgotten how good they are, very sweet and filling with a pleasant aroma. Mama saved some for later when we had our Friday dinner. Our candles are getting old, but still light well, I see as Mama lit the candles tonight. I'm so happy we have each other and at least enough food to keep us all fed decently. I have read about how in some other places in this country and some other countries, some people don't have enough food and go to bed hungry almost every night. My heart breaks for them. It is also another reason why so many people are fleeing here and other countries in Europe and going to Amerika. I wonder if it's true that there is little hunger there? Someone once told me that she'd heard that the streets were paved of gold, but I didn't believe it. If it were true, wouldn't we all be gone and in Amerika with shovels? Maybe it is just a speech figure. I think if things get worse here and we do end up going to Amerika, we will find out. It's getting late, so I'm blowing out this lamp and going on to sleep.  
  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
Wow. I look at the fat cookie in my hand that I'm about to devour and think of how lucky I am to have access to cookies 24/7. It must have been a luxury for those poor people, I realize. Slowly, I eat the cookie, appreciating its sweet taste, then turn a page and continue reading...  
  
  
August, 1901:  
  
I can hear noise far downtown. I just jolted awake. People yelling, thuds...it's late at night; I can see by my clock that it is two. I'm by the window now, looking out at the black, but see nothing. I can just hear the sounds. My heart is pounding and I'm sitting in this chair, hoping Anna and Mama aren't awakened and frightened. I just hope it never reaches here. The noises are very distant, but clear just the same.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I finally fell asleep that night at around five. I sat there for three hours before the noise subsided. Now it's quiet at night again. But how long will that last? Mama's work is slowing down; she says so many people are fearful and many of them are fleeing, getting away. She worries that her job will be soon to go. There is much unemployed people in Germany and Mama and our naibors fear it will get much worse. Mama was awake and worrying the other night. This time, I came in the main room and put an arm around her, trying to soothe her. She hugged me back and whispered things will be all right, but her forehead was lined in the middle again and her brows couldn't relax. The next night, I woke up late again and heard some thudding in the distance and sat by the window. Anna woke up and came over and hugged me. "You're worried..." she whispered. I must have had the same worried look that Mama's been getting lately in her brows because Anne stroked my brows and forehead. I kissed her on top of her head. "Are they going to kill us?" she whispered. "Nein..." I shook my head and stroked her hair, which is dark like mine. "Mama will look out for us. She won't let anything happen to us." I stroked her until she dozed, then I carried her back to her bed, then got on my side.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
August 23, 1901:  
  
To begin...where were we when so much happened and we're now here at a docking station in Denmarck on the verge of sailing to Amerika? To start...they finally came to Vosterbohn. We barely had time to get out of our house...they came late at night. Mama, Anna, and I hurriedly threw on clothes once we heard screaming, shattering glass and noise. I looked out that night and saw people racing up the street in panic. Oy vey! was my first thinking. I ran and shook Anna awake, then we threw on some clothes and ran for Mama. Mama was awake and heading to our side of the room, the horror in her eyes mirroring ours. We got ready to race out the door, Mama clutching a small bag and a goblet. I was clutching this journal and my family for dear life. I know now that inside that bag Mama held was all of our money, since we know that we need money to travel to Amerika. But as we got to the door, there was a loud BAT sound and something flew through the door. A bullet, I now realize it was. More bullets came through and the noise in the streets grew deafening. "Don't open that door!" Mama screamed, pulling us to the back of our house. We ended up squeezing out the fireplace flue and out on the roof. Thank the heavens the roof wasn't high, so all of us were able to get down and run as fast as we could. It was a very good thing we did too, since they broke into our house. We ran until we got to the middle of the field far enough away so we couldn't be seen. Nearby was a wooded lot, so we walked there and Mama hid us under a thick brush of bushes. Even this far, we could see the fires eating away at our town. We were terribly afraid for our naibors and hoped they were able to get away. A couple of them were, since a time later, they joined us in the woods. They too hid and all of us could just watch in mute horror as the rioters destroyed our street and for what we knew our entire shtetl. There was no time to go and find out. They would be back again, so all of us continued through the woods. It was a long, long walk and all of us were silent, fearful of the thugs catching up to us and killing us. I'm still trembling now just thinking of that night that came to pass. The next few days are a blur. Mama and some of the others gave the border guards some of the money, so we could get past...then we finally made it to Denmark. "Keep low and don't attract attention to yourselves," one guard told us. "Go past this road and you are out of Deuschland." Some of the people started to cry as we crossed the narrow dirt road, but Mama, Anna, and I were too in shock and tired. It was another few days walk before we reached this shore and located this dock where we will spend tonight. It's night now and we were able to wash up a little and talk some. Mama's fearful that this money she has won't be enough to make it into Amerika. Even though people say Amerika is open to all countries, I know some people are still turned away. Mama is now writing to Erik and Joanna to let them know we are going to Amerika. We are all a bit nervous and excited, yet a bit frightened. It is luck that Mama, Anna and I speak some Englisch and that I am practicing it here in this journal. Mama and Anna actually speak more fluently than I do, since even though I write my native German and Yiddish quite well, my speech is not very good. My teacher back in Deuschland says it is a speech defect that I may have all my life, but I'm glad I can read and write well. I just hope I can understand and be understood by the Amerikans since I hear they speak very rapid Englisch.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
As I turn a page, Dad, Sharon, and Grandma come in and call hello. "Hello..." I call back.  
  
"You look comfy," Dad tells me as they hang up their jackets. I nod.  
  
"Is it fascinating?" Sharon asks. My parents know about Syraria's journal.  
  
"It is," I nod. "I'm up to the part where she's about to board the ship." We talk a little, then the others head upstairs and I continue reading. As I flip the page, a paper falls out. I open it up and see that it is a ticket. A steamship ticket for third class, I realize as I try to make out the faded print. Corners of the ticket crumble in my hand and I gingerly put the ticket between the pages. A memento, I think. It's touching and I think for a moment of all she went through so all of us could have a better, safer life here. I think of my friends and how most of them had ancestors who'd immigrated here at the turn of the twentieth century. Without them, we all wouldn't be here, I think as I continue reading...  
  
  
  
We just boarded and found bunks in the third-class steerage. Anna, Mama, and I have to share one bed since it is very cramped quarters. I hope I remember that the stern is for women to use for a bathroom while the prow is for the men. I am sitting here in this bunk writing in this journal and still crowds of immigrants are crashing down through the bunks, shoving, edging, and squashing in. All of them speak in hundreds of languages and I caught a couple of snatches of Yiddish and German there. I even heard a couple speaking Englisch fluently. I wonder if they are Englisch or Irish since I know they speak Englisch there. I know Ireland is a poor country like Germany, so I imagine a lot of Irish people are fleeing. I hear someone on the bunk across from me, a girl my age barking some orders in broken Englisch and wonder what country she is from. She has dark hair almost as dark as mine and large brown eyes like mine. The crowd's settling now; I think they are all on board.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I met the girl in the other bunk just as our ship left shore. Once the crowd settled down, Mama, Anna, and I headed up to the deck to watch the ship go. The other girl joined us and introduced herself as Angela Mianno and said she was from Italy. I told her my name and that I was German. A sound blasted and the ship slowly took off. All of us watched the shoreline become distant, then slowly fade away. It was sunny a while ago, but now it is cloudy and the shore faded from view and now I can see nothing but the sea. My heart feels a strange pang, making tears spill down my face, and I have a feeling I will never again see Germany.  
  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
I wipe away tears of my own and notice a small blotch near the bottom of the page. My great-great grandmother's tears, I think. I grab some tissues fast, but a tear of mine is added to the page. I wipe them away and let my page-dropped tear dry before gently closing the journal. It is late, almost midnight and I'm feeling sleepy, so I finish my tea, long gone lukewarm, grope for a last cookie, but realize that I ate my last cookie. I take the plate and cup into the kitchen, load them into the dishwasher and grabbing the journal, put out the fire for the night and head up to get ready for bed and look forward to reading more later.  
  
  
  
  
  
The next chapter deals with survival in third-class steerage! More later! 


	3. 3

MARY ANNE:  
  
I sit again by the fireplace the day after Christmas and continue reading more of my great-great grandmother's journal. Our family had a wonderful Christmas-Hanukkah dinner and we did a gift exchange. Now things are quiet again as I curl up and continue to read...  
  
  
  
  
We've been on the sea for a day and a half and so far I haven't been seasick. Neither has Angela, but some of her siblings are as well as several people on this ship. I don't blame them, since the hold smells horrible and it is impossible to get really clean. We do our best with a small washtubs we have and thank our stars we at least have water and food. Mama was a little hesitant about our eating non-Kosher foods, but knew that our getting nourishment was more important than dietary laws now. Angela and I are becoming good friends. She is here with her two older brothers and two younger sisters as well as her parents. I told her a little about my family and introduced her to Anna and told her about my brother and his wife in America. She has an uncle and an aunt in the States too and is going to meet them when we get to New York. New York is where we will land. An odd name for a place. Angela also told me that in the harbor is a statue of a woman holding a torch as if to welcome all newcomers to America. "Mama told me that she's really beautiful and big," Angela tells me. It sounds good; if that statue really is as beautiful as they say, America may be a good place to make a life after all.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Right now all of us are confined in the hold. A storm is raging outside and we can barely stay on our beds. I am having a hard time holding this pen as I write because of the ship tilting and rocking and my own hands shaking. I'm so scared and I can see Mama's face is pale, but she is trying to be strong as she holds on to me and me sister. Angela is on the bed across the hold and I see her and her family trying to hold on to their bunk. All around, I hear people vomiting, crying, praying, wailing. A pregnant woman across from me is afraid she will lose her baby. It is so terrifying being out here at nature's mercy! All we can do is hang onto each other and hope this storm will end soon.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Things are calming down some. The worst of the storm seems to be over for now and they are allowing us back on the deck again. Angela, her little sisters, and I went out as soon as we could to get some fresh air. Anna has been seasick, so Mama is trying to keep her quiet. It is still raining, but the waves aren't so huge now. I leaned my head back to get a bit of rain and realized that it tastes really fresh. The water we have with our meals, I didn't realize how salty it is. We stood on deck for several days. Anna is finally feeling better, so she's able to get up and walk around. I am sitting back in my bunk before we got to sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Strange comment someone made. The woman across from us with the pregnant woman said that she hope Anna doesn't have trakoma. What is that? I asked her. She told me that it was a contagious eye disease that caused inflammation and scarring inside the eyelids. I looked at Anna and noticed that her eyes did look a bit red, but that was because she'd been sick. "They are turned away from America if they have trakoma," the woman warned in broken English and it made me swallow in fear. I'm sure Anna's eyes are fine. I asked if you can die from it. The woman says no, but it can leave you blind. Oh, dear. I pulled Anna close and whispered fearfully to Mama what I'd just been told. Mama peered at my sister's eyes, but says it doesn't look like she has any scars, just the redness from the seasickness and some crying she's done while she was sick. I hope Mama's right. As I'm getting ready to sleep, I just caution my sister not to rub her eyes, so they won't get redder. Trakoma sounds really dreadful and I hope none of us get it. I close my eyes and tried to imagine what it was like to not be able to see anything but black. It's hard.  
  
  
  
  
  
It's hard for me too, to imagine what it's like to live in total darkness. Trachoma was rampant in the early 1900's and back then there was no treatment for it. Vaguely, I remember reading somewhere that Annie Sullivan, Helen Keller's teacher had suffered from trachoma and had been blinded by it. Boy, sounded really scary to be at the mercy of the sea! I could imagine that chilling ocean and the huge waves. I'm starting to drift off, so I think I'll head to bed.  
  
  
  
  
  
I know this is a short chapter, but there'll be more later! 


	4. 4

Finally got a bit of time to write more on Mary Anne's great-grandma Syraria! Enjoy!  
  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
I'm curled up in bed with my great-grandmother's diary and a cup of tea once again the following night, so I open it slowly and read some more...  
  
  
  
Have not written in almost a week. So much happened and I am just now recovering from it. Another storm came. Angela and I were on deck, but the crew was getting ready to get us inside, in the hold. The rain was beginning and the waves were high. A couple with a small girl was heading to the hold, but the little girl was more curious about the waves and broke away from the mother and went to the rail. What happened next is unclear in parts, so I hope you'll excuse me if I sound not clear here. From what Angela tells me, the girl slipped and fell into the sea. I'd screamed some, then ran to the rail and dove in after the girl. Angela says she was so frightened for both of us! I remember some little parts of being in the dark wild sea and feeling as if wind and water were tossing us around. Everything was black, wet, and salty. I vaguely recall both of us being pulled up and back onto the deck. The girl's mother thanked me in Englisch, then clutched her little girl. I heard sobbing, then I must have fainted then because the next thing I remember was being in my bunk with Mama and Anna sitting by me. Mama was holding my hand. I heard Anna say softly, "She's awake..." and I slowly opened my eyes. Mama and Anna smiled, then asked how I was feeling. Sleepy, I told them. Everything was fuzzy at first, but slowly cleared. Mama reassured me that the little girl was all right. Later on that night, the girl's parents came over and thanked me. They are from Ireland with their three children. Their little girl is all right now. Angela then stopped by my bunk and we talked softly and held hands until I fell asleep again.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I've been sick, but am beginning to come back from the illness. I still cough and feel tired, but the fever is gone and my congestion is healed. Angela, Mama, and Anna took turns nursing me, so I just thanked them. I'm able to sit up now, but still have to stay in bed for another day at least. Angela told me that the storm is over and the rain is slowing. That is good because I want to go out on deck again. The hold smells strongly now and many people have vomited, so the air here is stale and putrid. Putrid, another of many Englisch words we are all picking up. I'm lying here listening to the passengers talking in so many languages. I know Englisch is the official language in the States, but I've also read that in many cities such is the one we're going to, New York, many languages are spoken among the immigrants. I even hear two women a little further down speaking Swedish, I think.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Finally! I'm able to get up and out on deck again! The fresh air feels so good! The sky is clearing and the winds have softened now. Angela says she is relieved that I'm well again. So am I. And it feels good to be able to eat again. It's nothing more than watery, salty soups and gritty meat broths and weak tea, but it's food and any food is good. Angela and I heard from some of the others that we're close to America! Just two more days! We both hugged in happiness. I then ran on down to tell Anna and Mama the news. "Thank God!" Mama gave me and Anna a hug. "Now if we can just notify your brother and Joanna, we can secure a place in the States and I can find a job so we can make our home in America." It's hard to believe we are almost in America.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It's late at night now and our ship is supposed to dock in New York tomorrow morning early. All of us in this ship are a bit nervous and stories are floating around. Some people say that if you're sick, you can be sent back to your old country. Several people are also saying that you have to be able to read. "Englisch?" someone asked fearfully. Any language, she was told. Mama, Anna, and I are huddled close and so are Angela and her family. Mama is trying to smile to comfort us but I can see that she is nervous. I'm a little nervous too...about all the physical exams we might have to take. Before I go to sleep tonight, I will send up a prayer to God that all of us get into America. I hope God sends a touch of Mazel Tov to all of us on board this ship.  
  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
I've just fallen asleep, then awakened and it's around two-thirty in the morning, so I better put the journal on the night table and read later. I know the next entry will be about her entry into this country. I wish I could reach back in time to tell her that yes, she and her family got here all right.  
  
  
  
More later! Don't be shy about reviewing! 


	5. 5

Finally, Syraria arrives in the States in this chapter! Enjoy!  
  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
It's around eleven-thirty in the morning and after enjoying a late sleep, I'm sitting at Grandma's kitchen table with a cup of tea, peanut butter toast, and Syraria's journal. I push up the sleeves of my sweatshirt and finish my toast, wash my hands, then open the journal...  
  
  
We've made it. My family and I are here in the States. We are here outside of the Ellis Island immigration building waiting to be inspected, Mama, Anna, and I. Angela and her family were just taken in along with a crowd of others. Angela and I have exchanged addresses. Angela is going to Boston with her family since she has an few cousins there. My heart is lonely already since I am not sure if Angela and I will ever see each other again. I'm now wiping the tears away as I write, so I hope I won't get tearstains on this journal. Our ship docked early this morning as the sun rose. It was a beautiful view. Angela and I slept little last night. As it grew light, Anna, Angela, her sisters and brothers went up to the deck. We stood by the sea and after what seemed like a long time, I could see a dark line between the sky and sea! I knew that it was land and I pointed and the others saw too. We hugged, cried, laughed, then ran down to tell the others that we'd seen Amerika America. It's right, spelled with a c. The others came rushing up and all of us crowded to get the first glance of the new country. Everyone was yelling, laughing, crying, and hugging. Mama hugged both Anna and me, tears streaking down her face. I myself couldn't believe we'd reached America. "We'll send out a telegram to Erik as soon as we land and he'll come pick us up," my mother told us, her arms still wrapped around us. We silently watched as the dark chunk of land grew and grew until we could see tall squares. New York City, I realized. By then, the crowd was mostly silent. "That's New York?" someone gasped. "Look at those tall buildings!" someone else added. "How do people live in those big things?" There were other murmurings in other languages too. Another ship passed us in the opposite direction. Then Angela tapped me and pointed.   
  
"Statue of Liberty..." she whispered. There she was. It was a statue of a tall, rather lovely woman holding a torch. By then the sun was rising and I could hear other people murmuring about Liberty and looking, just peering at her. As we got closer, she seemed to rise out of the sea like a beautiful coppery apparition. It wasn't that her face was pretty or anything, but something about her was...majestek...dignified. The sight took my breath away as we passed right by it. By then, we were seeing more ships and the buildings loomed over us like huge people inspecting us. Inspectors...I could hear the fearful whispers of the other immigrants and Mama held on to our hands more tightly as our ship headed toward a red brick square building on an island close to the Statue of Liberty. Finally, our ship docked and I could see passengers cringing fearfully as uniformed men came on board and began asking questions and peering into eyes, mouths, and feeling heartbeats. My own heart beat faster as they came close, but thank God, they gave us a quick glance and passed by. That is the first part of the exam. What worries us most is what will happen inside the buildings. I hope Angela and her family are getting through. I send a Mazel Tov to them in my mind and soul. We finally were let off the ship and herded into this waiting area outside the building. It's very crowded here with hundreds of languages being heard at once. They take the crowds in group at a time. The door just opened...we're next, I mouth that as we're taken in. I have to put this down now, as the guards and inspectors are ordering all of us to put all of our belongings here beside a long bar. I just hope this journal doesn't get stolen!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
What a long, long day. My family and I made it through inspection, but some of the things we see...right now, we are waiting for Erik and Joanna to pick us up; they have already been summoned. I'm so glad no one stole our things. Right now, we are eating in the kosher kitchen. Once we got into the building, the hall was so huge and cavelike that the voices in thousands of languages seemed deafening. The noise bounced against the huge walls as all of us were herded up the stairs in a huge bunch. What we didn't know was that inspectors were watching us even up the stairs. Several people were pulled aside and questioned if they limped or seemed unsteady on their feet. Poor things! I thought. Once we got upstairs, we were lined up in long lines and at the head of each line was a desk with an examiner. This examiner asked basic questions like *what language do you speak* and they asked Mama what she planned to do for a living in the New World. She told them that she could sew and do factory work. The inspector kind of shook his head and muttered something like *sweatshop work.* "What's a sweatshop?" Anna asked.   
  
"I don't know," Mama whispered. She put a finger to her lips to quiet her, since I hear that anyone who was too loud could be turned away. One question was giving each of us a small card to read. Since they knew we spoke Yiddish, they held out the Yiddish card to us. I answered some of their questions in Englisch, to gave them the good impression, that yes, we could speak Englisch as well, so we'd be able to make our way here. Our next exam, which made us nervous was the physical. It seemed so long as they measured our heartbeats, peered into our faces, and the painful part was the eye exam. I had to fight back a cry as the inspector used a bottonhook to pull down my eyelids. It really stung! Anna gasped, then held her eyes a minute once her exam was over. I held her a minute after, reassuring her that it was over. And that part was, since none of us had the dreaded trachoma Unfortunately, as we moved toward the scalp exam, the woman behind us seemed to have it and I had to fight back tears as I listened to her crying and pleading not to be sent back. I just hoped she didn't have trachoma. Fortunately, the rest of the exams got easier and we were sent to one last table. There we were told that Erik and Joanna had been notified and would come for us this evening. Then finally, finally, after some more questions, the last inspector asked for our passage money, which we'd had in our pocket linings. They didn't take it, but looked it over, then directed us to an exchange counter where we could exchange our marcks for American dollers. Then at last, the words, "Welcome to the United States." We let out our breaths as he stamped our travel passes, then waved us in. We slowly went in. I then caught a glimpse of Angela.   
  
"You made it!" she called. We ran to each other and hugged and Mama and Anna came over and our families talked a few minutes. Angela said that since her parents were both with them, they were ready to leave for Boston. They had their tickets and we said a teary goodbye to them at a long set of stairs. The Stairway of Separation, Mama told us. We stood for a few minutes, watching several other newly admitted immigrants part tearfully at this set of stairs and Angela and I waved until we couldn't see each other any more. We'd promised to write. I clutched her address in my skirt pocked as tears rolled down my face. Mama then hugged me and asked if we should get something to eat. I nodded and Anna said that she was hungry. We exchanged our money, then wandered around looking for a kitchen, since we'd heard that there was one here. Finally, a woman who worked for a group called the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society directed us to the kosher kitchen down the hall and to the right, so we went and here we are now. We just ate now and Erik and Joanna will be arriving any minute, so I must put this journal away for now until we get settled into our new home in New York City.  
  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
I have to get up and get tissues and wipe away tears of my own. The Isle of Hope and Tears, I think. I can see why it was called that. What they went through. I can just imagine how scary it all was for them.  
  
  
  
  
More later on how Syraria settles into American life! How will her family adjust to a totally new lifestyle? Stay tuned and you'll find out! 


	6. 6

Wow, it's been ages since I updated this one...got through a mound of mid-terms...just a semester and a half of college to go and I GRADUATE! Yeeehaaa! Sooo, here's more; enjoy!  
  
  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
Once I'm though wiping the tears from my eyes and blowing my nose, I have to wash my hands again so I don't drip snot on Syraria's journal. Then I sit back down at the kitchen table to read more...  
  
  
  
We'd left in August, but now it is September. Joanna and Erik came to pick us up at Battery Park once we left Ellis Island. They took us to their flat in Lower East Side of New York. New York is so big and so crowded, so many people walking, running, selling things. So many strange smells and foods. I have never seen so many high buildings! I get scared trying to look up at them and it makes me a little dizzy. I held Mama's hand and Anna clung to mine. We found ourselves weaving through crowds of people and someone swerved by us with a cart full of a strange yellow food that looked like long curved handles. It took about ten blocks down and five blocks over to reach Joanna and Erik's flat. Joanna and Erik talked. Occasionally Mama added something. The houses are very close and crowded and people sprawl along the streets. As we went up the long narrow stairs, I saw several people lying under the stairs in a faint. I also saw papers, empty bottles, wrappers, and broken glass all over the streets and the place smelled faintly like urine and trash decaying. I felt a bit sick seeing and smelling it and I noticed Mama and Anna were a bit pale. It was a relief to get inside the flat on the second floor. As we went up to it, we could hear two people arguing in English. I could understand some of it, but the American English being spoken fluently made it hard to follow the meaning.  
  
"And this is home sweet home..." Joanna gestured around once we entered. And it was homelike. Thinking back, many people might think it was shabby too, but it was rather small, narrow and was furnished. It was a big entrance room with a table and chairs, a kitchen to the right with a stove, table, and more chairs and ahead was a door that led to the bedrooms. It was almost as big as the entrance room, which I now know it as the living room. The bedroom had several beds lined by the wall and a bureau. Finally we could put down our bags and have a rest. The flat was dimly lit and as it was growing dark, we needed to light the lamps. So it was the first thing we did. Joanna and Erik started the wood burning in the stove and together all of us took out food and prepared dinner. After a month of eating the bland, salt-stained food on the ship, it was a relief to eat real-tasting food again. It was rice, chicken and tea. I hadn't realized how salty the food at sea had tasted until I got to taste this food. At first I winced at the strong flavors, but grew used to it and enjoyed the meal. So did Mama and Anna.  
  
"We are lucky to have this food," Erik said once we finished eating and were having tea. "It took Joanna and me two weeks, but we found jobs ironing in the garment factory. The pay isn't high, but it feeds us and gives us a roof over our heads. Perhaps there are openings there." Mama, Anna, and I nodded.  
  
"The work is hard and often hot," Joanna put in. "But Erik and I hope to get in training for better jobs. I really want to be a nurse, but I'd have to work several more years to afford training."  
  
"I hope I can become trained for woodworking and maybe even be a carpenter," Erik added.  
  
"Do you think there are possibilities for sewing in the garment industry sometime?" I asked.  
  
"Hard to say," Joanna finished her tea. "What living are you thinking about?"  
  
"A tailor," I spoke up. It is perhaps one of the few times I say my dream out loud. I love to sew and make clothing and if I can do it for a living, I will be very happy.  
  
"She can be," Mama added. "Back in Germany, Syraria often made beautiful blouses and hats. She has a talent for sewing and putting things together."  
  
"We can hope here," Erik said. We were quiet a minute, thinking about the difficulties which we all knew lay ahead. yes, America is the land of opportunity, but I'd also heard that there were unprincipled employers who sought to keep certain people back, like women, newcomers, Jews, and Catholics for a few.  
  
  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
Wow, Syraria and I have a lot in common. She liked to sew just like I do. I wonder if I would have been a tailor had I lived that long ago. Back then, women really had a hard time getting ahead, even in sewing. I think about that a minute, then keep reading...  
  
  
  
I can't believe I'm here in America and have been here one week. So many different people from different countries and speaking different languages! It's interesting. There're a couple from Poland living below us and a family from Italy living across the hall. Mama, Anna, and I got jobs in a nearby factory ironing. Anna works there a half a day and goes to school in the morning, which is good. The work is very hot and tiring, but it is good to be earning our keep. We work there six days a week, with Saturdays free. None of us really practice the Sabbath, but we do try to have a special meal on Friday evenings at sunset. Joanna and Erik have been very kind and generous. We can stay in their flat until we're earning enough to support ourselves, however long we need. So many strange customs to get used to. There's so many odd foods and so many different languages besides English. Shopping in any of the markets makes me nervous because I struggle with my speech problem and other people don't always understand. Yesterday, Anna and I stopped to buy kosher vegetables. The celeries were behind the counter and I had to ask the clerk for it, but couldn't get the word out. The clerk watched me, then started to smirk.  
  
"What's wrong with your mouth, dearie?" he laughed and I felt my face redden. I pointed, still struggling to speak. Strange embarrassing sounds came out of my mouth, but I still could not make the clerk understand. *What's wrong with her...* I heard someone behind me mutter. Tears came to my eyes and I began to shake. I looked around for something to write with.  
  
"I can write it down if you get..." The clerk kept smirking and handed me a bag.  
  
"What's so funny?" Anna demanded as she came up to the counter with apples. The clerk looked startled then and stopped laughing at me. "Bring her a writing tool!" The clerk handed me a pencil and I wrote down what I needed and handed it to the clerk, very embarrassed and hurting too. Some of the people were laughing and Anna glared at them until they fell silent. The clerk brought the things over and I paid for it and we quickly left the store. "Oh, Syraria, I'm so sorry..." she put an arm around me. Tears spilled over my face and I hugged her.  
  
"Danke..." I whispered my thanks in German. I felt a little better knowing I had my sister to stand by me. I know it's going to be hard, being foreign and with me having my speech problem. I told myself to bring paper and a writing tool on other outings so I couldn't make too big a fool of myself again.  
  
  
  
MARY ANNE:  
  
God, some people can be so cruel to someone "odd." And back then, people were a lot more ignorant and most people then had lower moral values. I know, Syraria, I know, I think. I hear the rest of my family coming in, at least Grandma, Dawn and Dad, so I close the journal for now and take it upstairs to read more on it later.  
  
  
  
  
More later! 


End file.
